


Cup of Coffee

by Nigaishin



Category: CSI: Crime Scene Investigation
Genre: Angst, M/M, Sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-23
Updated: 2011-11-23
Packaged: 2017-10-26 11:45:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/282659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nigaishin/pseuds/Nigaishin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Greg's mouth had, of course, tasted like coffee.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cup of Coffee

**Author's Note:**

> Betas: blackangel_life and redleaf0 on LJ.  
> Redleaf0 and her totally INNOCENT pointing out songs at random are what made this fic happen. Meh.  
> Ripped off "Cups of Coffee" by Garbage.  
> Written and posted back in 2005 on LJ.

 

 

 

It hadn't taken them long to see how their life together actually revolved around mugs of coffee shared here and there on the way.

 

The first time they had ever talked about something that had nothing to do with work and managed to keep it on fairly decent terms, was when Hodges had snagged Greg's freshly poured cup of coffee and quickly taken a sip before the younger man could take it away. The taste in his mouth had been surprisingly pleasant, seeing how it was popular belief that the break-room coffee was more probably rat piss than anything else, given the way it tasted. He hadn't expected that.

 

So, when Greg had proceeded, after a long, very long list of complaints about him, to explain just why that coffee was so good, Hodges had never smirked or talked back once, preferring to sip the coffee in delight and stare at the younger man as he babbled on about seeds and weird ways to reap them (because, seriously, not going there while drinking the very result of said reaped coffee beans).

 

From that time on, the plan had been fairly simple: steal Greg's coffee when he wasn't looking. It was tricky though, because the DNA specialist seemed to guard it like a baby.

 

After a while, it had been clear that Greg had simply started to brew a cup or two more than he usually did. This small gesture had pushed Hodges to invite Greg out for a cup of coffee somewhere. And so small, sniping remarks had left place to comments and questions and small talk, and a sense of affection that drove Hodges to seek out Greg's company more often that he should have.

 

Because before he knew, he was sitting on Greg's couch in Greg's living room, drinking Greg's excellent coffee and chatting about the newest way to spot fingerprints through X-Rays, and then Greg had paused, swallowing the last sip of his coffee, placed the mug down and leant over him to reach for one of his old S.A. issues.

 

Hodges wasn't sure whether it was the feeling of comfortableness he was in while talking idly with Greg, or maybe the fact that sitting there, with one of his legs folded under him and his right arm thrown over the back of couch casually, made him feel home, or the other man's aftershave scent growing stronger as Greg looked for the magazine, the arch of his neck as he craned it to peek behind his guest, the wildly bleached hair and a million other details he tried to take in during the couple of seconds it took Greg to get his fingers on what he wanted.

 

He didn't know what had made him bend his head and kiss the corner of Greg's mouth, before drawing back up, a bored mask slipping on his face. He remembered wishing for a second he could forget the way the boy's eyes had darted sideways to meet his, startled, or the way his lips had parted oh so slightly, as if to say something. The way that lanky body had seemed to freeze on the spot, and was now shivering a little under the strain of staying so still.

 

And again, how he had finally sat back and watched him, absorbed in his own considerations, thrumming his fingers on his knee. And then, how he had unleashed that bright smile of his that made part of Hodges want to set his jaw or bite him or just hold him in his arms, crushing him. And that sense of possessiveness had surprised David almost as much as Greg's lips on his had, a matter of seconds later. Lost in thoughts, he hadn't realized Greg was leaning in until his hand had come to rest on Hodges' thigh to steady the rest of the body, and by then they were already kissing and there was no time to think.

 

Greg's mouth had, of course, tasted like coffee.

 

Hodges had tried to take it all in, exploring it with his tongue. His hands had itched closer to Greg's body and finally grabbed his shirt, pressing the two of them closer. He was calm where Greg was eager, and they clashed together, neither wanting to go down first.

 

It had been fast, scratchy sex, coffee-flavored kisses mouthed on sweaty skin, gasps and moans and a slow, rocking motion that had gone on a little while even after they both came, lips touching the outer shell of a ear while teeth nipped the flesh of the other's neck idly.

 

They had lost count of how many times that had happened, them meeting for a cup of coffee somewhere, often over at Greg's place, and ending up having sex with words of love half-muttered while licking skin or muffling the screams in a pillow, but never out in the open.

 

And it's four in the morning now, and they're sitting in Greg's kitchen with a cup of coffee each, blowing on the dark beverage absent-mindedly while staring at the plastic surface of the table or the sun dawning out of the window.

 

Greg's finger slide up and down the mug while Hodges holds his in his hands firmly.

 

He looks down and almost see himself mirrored there.

 

It took a cup of coffee to prove he loved him.

 

So he doesn't know why when his lips move he hears his voice tell Greg he doesn't love him, or why he doesn't follow him when a broken sob leaves the younger man and he gets up to go pacing in the living room.

 

But he clearly remembers Ecklie telling him it was none of his business, but he wouldn't tolerate such a relationship in his laboratory, and it's sad that his last memory of the two of them together is stained with the figure of Ecklie looming over it.

 

The cup turns blurry at some point, and Hodges wonders why.

 

Then Greg's standing in the doorway, whispering "It took a cup of coffee to prove that you don’t love me, and that's maybe one of the things that hurts me the most about it".

 

And he understands, and he's sorry and hurt and broken, because coffee was something Greg cherished, and Hodges managed to destroy that too.

 

 

~fin


End file.
